


but loving him was red

by sauntering_down



Category: Free!
Genre: Free! Kink Meme, Multi, Rin is just an asshole, Seijuurou and Rin fight like Tusken Raiders, Seijuurou is long-suffering, What Have I Done, as is Nitori, i do not claim medical accuracy, it's raining creative liberties, the pairings are kind of just speculation on Seijuurou's part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sauntering_down/pseuds/sauntering_down
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink meme prompt: One day at a relay or at practice, something goes wrong and Rin gets injured or falls unconscious in the pool. Haru is the first one to dive in after him, even before his own teammates.</p><p> </p><p>'His feet move automatically and suddenly he’s sprinting for the opposite end of the pool, disregarding the judgmental glare from the NO RUNNING ON THE POOL DECK sign right over his head, because Rin might be a pain in the ass but he’s also a teammate and there’s no way in hell Seijuurou’s actually letting anyone drown while he’s in command.  His feet slip on the wet floor as he charges towards the glimmer of red drifting further and further down.</p><p>Someone else gets there first.'</p><p> </p><p>alternate title: "Seijuurou Has 99 Problems and They're All Named Rin"</p>
            </blockquote>





	but loving him was red

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt can be found [here](http://iwatobiswimclub.dreamwidth.org/893.html?thread=434045#cmt434045).
> 
> First Free! fic. It probably shows. I apologize in advance, I have NO idea what happened here... the idea hit me over the head, stole my wallet, and ran off into the night.

“What are _they_ doing here?”

Seijuurou suppresses a sigh and turns around.  Bare feet slap-slap-slap against the floor as Storm Cloud Rin rolls in, just shy of outright stomping as he approaches, glowering clear across the natatorium; Seijuurou follows his gaze to where the Iwatobi students are emerging from the visiting team’s locker room.  There’s no avoiding this particular confrontation, it seems, and he catches himself wishing Rin had just skipped practice.  Arguing with him is _tiring_. “Their manager called this morning,” he says, checking off names on the attendance list.  “A stray dog drowned in their pool during the night and they can’t use it while it’s being disinfected.  She wanted to arrange a joint practice so they wouldn’t miss a day.” 

Rin’s mouth corkscrews into a scowl.  “And I bet she batted her eyelashes and you said yes right away.”

“I couldn’t see her through the phone,” Seijuurou points out.  Gou doesn’t seem like an eyelash-batting sort of girl, anyway – but his treacherous brain promptly supplies him with an image of her doing exactly that.  His knees turn to water.  Gorgeous, glorious, gregarious Gou….  He quickly composes himself and adds, “You can take it or leave it, Matsuoka.  I don’t have time for your crap today.”

They proceed to spend a good twenty seconds staring each other down, which is becoming a fixture of swimming practice because Rin wears his glaring hatred of everyone in the world like a tattoo and Seijuurou can only tolerate so much insubordination before wanting to strangle him with his own goggles.  How on earth a sweet girl like Gou wound up with such a jerk for a brother, he has no idea. The corner of Rin’s lip curls ever so slightly, exposing the point of one unnaturally sharp incisor. 

Seijuurou only swallows a _bit_ harder than normal.

A bout of raucous laughter from someone in the Iwatobi group brings the silent fight to an end.  Rin breaks eye contact.  He tosses one last contemptuous look at the other team before he slips on a mask of cool disinterest unsettlingly similar to the blank non-expression Nanase always wears, shrugs, and saunters back towards the rest of the Samezuka students.  Seijuurou closes his eyes for a moment and then continues marking attendance.  He _won_ their little standoff, but from the looks of it, Rin’s sticking around – he puts his goggles on, snaps the strap against the back of his head so hard it _has_ to hurt, starts tugging his cap over his hair.  Reluctantly, Seijuurou checks the box next to Rin’s name on the list. 

He wants to like Rin.  Really, he does.  He’s put more effort into trying to like Rin than he has into his math class.  Unfortunately, while Rin is a _brilliant_ swimmer, he’s also a raging asshole.  Seijuurou had never even heard the name ‘Matsuoka’ before Gou came looking for him, and then suddenly this kid turned up and broke two well-defended school records during his goddamn _tryout_ – and he should be thrilled about having a guy like that on the team, except the only emotions Rin elicits in him are irritation, agitation, frustration, and the occasional desire to see if those incisors are sharp enough to cut his knuckles when Seijuurou punches him in the mouth.  He gets even more infuriating when they train with the Iwatobi team, thankfully a rare occurrence now that it’s warm enough to swim outdoors.  Those are the days when Rin watches from the balcony, coiled tighter than a spring, when Seijuurou wants to yell at him to get his ass in the pool and can’t because he isn’t allowed to punish anyone for skipping as long as they meet the six-practices-per-week requirement.  It’s _galling_ , but at least he can console himself by watching Gou’s hair catch the light.  He still isn’t totally sure what’s up with Rin and the guys from Iwatobi.  The Samezuka rumor mill (aided and abetted by the team’s very own Nitori) reports that most of them swam on the same team in elementary school, which Seijuurou found to be true after consulting a few old photographs from childhood swim meets, but… he suspects maybe something else is going on.  He’s seen the looks Rin and Nanase throw when they think the other isn’t looking, the ones that are angry – on Rin’s side – or unreadable – on Nanase’s – and _always_ seem to be covering up some sort of deep, painful longing and Seijuurou can’t help but think _really rough breakup._

He heads across the room to greet the Iwatobi team, automatically counting heads.  Nanase doesn’t spare him a first glance, much less a second, too busy watching the water slop against the sides of the pool.  The boy with the glasses – Ryugazaki, Seijuurou reminds himself, hoping the coach still keeps a life preserver in his office – is arguing with Hazuki, who always reminds Seijuurou of one of those little wind-up toys that zips around like crazy until it crashes into a wall.  At least Tachibana offers up a smile and a greeting.  Seijuurou returns both before noticing a conspicuous non-presence and blurting, “Where’s Gou?”

“She couldn’t make it,” Tachibana says.  “She came down with the flu and had to go home early.” 

The dramatic part of Seijuurou’s brain demands he fling himself to the floor, weeping helplessly, but that would be ill-befitting for the captain of the swim team, so he simply says, “That’s too bad.”  Perhaps a Get Well card is in order if he can find out where she lives.  Seijuurou has a bit of a reputation for being a skirt-chaser, but Gou is _different_ , and sooner or later he’ll think of a good explanation why that will convince even the skeptics.  He wants to make her laugh.  He wants to know if she likes flowers and what her favorite flavor of ice cream is and how she feels about cheesy low-budget sci-fi films.  He wants to run his fingers through her hair and see if it’s really as soft as it looks.  Quietly mourning yet _another_ missed chance to get her phone number, he goes over the attendance list one more time, marks off the stragglers trickling through the locker room doors, and blows his whistle to begin practice. 

Despite the unsteady start, the next hour and a half pass without incident.  Seijuurou holds his breath when Ryugazaki dives into the pool, but either he’s gotten _impossibly_ better in the space of a few weeks or Iwatobi has a cloning program, because he turns out to be a surprisingly competent butterflyer.  And heads turn when Nanase starts his laps – the guy glides through water so easily and flawlessly that he _has_ to be part mermaid or something.  The only person unimpressed is, of course, Rin, who’s in the lane next to Seijuurou and mutters criticism under his breath until Seijuurou finally snaps, “Shut up and swim, Matsuoka.  I could swim through _molasses_ and get a better time than your last lap.”

Rin gives him a look so acidic that the pool’s pH level drops to about three, but plunges beneath the surface nevertheless.  Harsh, and yet Seijuurou can’t scrape up an atom of guilt.  Rin _has_ been slowing significantly as practice wears on, anyway, which is sort of weird.  He tends to get increasingly manic the longer he’s in the water.  Reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Nanase’s fantastic front crawl, Seijuurou takes off to help a backstroker who just miscalculated the length of the pool and smashed his head into the wall.

Practice eventually starts to wind down.  Seijuurou hoists himself out of the pool, slings his towel around his neck, checks the time, then takes up his trusty whistle again.  “Ten minutes, guys,” he says after the sound catches everyone’s attention, “start cooling off,” which quickly leads to an amusing little sideshow where Tachibana tries to coax Nanase from the pool in increasingly desperate tones before giving up and bodily dragging him out.  Everyone else runs through a slow lap or two or starts stretching.

Except Rin.

Seijuurou seriously considers just pretending he’s not there.  Rin’s in full-fledged Dick Mode and nothing anyone says will dissuade him from doing exactly what he wants.  Even if he _does_ kick Rin out, he’ll just come back later (probably with Nitori, who is such an enabler).  Seijuurou has a duty as team captain, though, so he heads towards the block Rin’s crouched on.  “Hey –” he starts. 

Rin straightens up, looks over his shoulder, and the words wither in Seijuurou’s throat.  Not because Rin is snarling – that’s pretty much his default expression – but because he looks like _hell_.  He’s milk-white and his eyes are a little glassy and his pupils are blown and every instinct Seijuurou possesses screams _don’t let him get back in there, you suck at giving CPR!_   But before he can suggest that maybe Rin step off the block and sit down for a minute before he falls over, Rin takes the sudden silence as some sort of reprimand and goes off like a firework.  “What do you want _now_?” he spits.  “I’m in the middle of something.”

 “I know,” Seijuurou says, sounding a lot calmer than he feels.  “But you don’t look too –”

“ _Fuck_ _off_ , Seijuurou,” Rin hisses, and then he turns and dives into the pool. 

He’s ten meters down the lane before Seijuurou quits gaping like an idiot and takes a quick, surreptitious look around to see how many people witnessed that blatant challenge of his authority.  Fewer than he feared, thankfully, since half the team’s already hit the showers.  He does notice that he’s not the only one watching Rin plow through the water in what might pass for a straight line in a kindergarten class – Nanase’s eyes follow him along the length of the lane, his mouth set in the slightest of slight frowns.  Seijuurou leaves him to it, goes to make sure Ryouichi’s recovered from his intimate moment with the wall.  God-fucking- _damn_ , they are going to have words if Rin doesn’t pass out and drown.  They’re already long-overdue for a little chat about the attitude adjustment he needs to implement if he wants to stay on the team.  So, the moment Rin clambers out of the pool at the end of the lane, Seijuurou plants his hands on his hips and calls, “Matsuoka!” 

He’s ignored.  _Big_ surprise.  Rin slowly fumbles his goggles and cap off, a movement so inexplicably uncoordinated that Seijuurou doesn’t understand until he realizes he can see Rin’s hands shaking from the other side of the natatorium.  Anger yields to concern.  He tries again – “Rin!”

Rin looks up.  Not at Seijuurou, _up_ , like something’s flown over his head, and then he just… topples.  Right back into the water.

For an instant, Seijuurou stares, thinking _oh shit are you fucking kidding me_.  His feet move automatically and suddenly he’s sprinting for the opposite end of the pool, disregarding the judgmental glare from the **NO RUNNING ON THE POOL DECK** sign right over his head, because Rin might be a pain in the ass but he’s also a teammate and there’s no way in hell Seijuurou’s actually letting anyone drown while he’s in command.  His feet slip on the wet floor as he charges towards the glimmer of red drifting further and further down.

Someone else gets there first. 

Nanase breezes in out of nowhere, shoots to the lip of the pool, and executes a graceful dive into the water – Seijuurou would give it a nine-point-three, excellent form but a bit too much splash on entry.  By the time Seijuurou’s close enough, Nanase’s already dragging Rin to the surface, propelling them closer to the wall.  Seijuurou drops to his knees, grabs Rin’s trailing arm, and helps haul him out.  It’s like lifting a wet, gangly, redheaded sack of potatoes.  He’s out _cold_.  Tachibana shows up to lend a hand, and together they get him laid out on the deck.  Luckily for Seijuurou’s atrocious CPR skills, he’s breathing. 

Nanase, looking more pensive than worried, lightly slaps Rin’s face, to no avail.  “Shit,” Seijuurou says, as if vocalizing the litany of swear words running through his brain will make a difference.  He instructs the nearest bystander to run and get the school nurse, but she’s all the way on the other side of campus.  Desperate to do _something_ , he takes Rin’s wrist and presses his fingers to the pulse – steady, way too fast, even for someone who’s just come off a workout.  “His heart is racing.”

Nanase responds with “Where’s his jacket?”

“What?” Seijuurou says blankly.  Their eyes meet for an instant, then Nanase looks away, leaving Seijuurou with the curious sensation that he’s just been thoroughly dismissed.

“It’s in the locker room,” Nitori says, “should I –”

“Go get it.”

Nitori turns, slips through the wall of rubberneckers (which, Seijuurou sees, is slowly being herded away by Hazuki and Ryugazaki), and bolts for the locker room.  Seijuurou stomps down a hypocritical urge to tell him not to run on the pool deck.  And finally, Rin stirs, to the visible relief of everyone except Nanase, who just says, “You’re an idiot.”

Rin cracks open his eyes, gives Nanase a muzzy glare, turns his head, and coughs a spray of water at Seijuurou’s knees.  Seijuurou chooses to believe it was unintentional.  Feeling distinctly out of the loop, he addresses the Iwatobi team as a whole: “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

Nanase says nothing.  Tachibana takes pity on Seijuurou, gives him a puzzled look, says, “He’s diabetic.  Didn’t you know?”

Seijuurou blinks.  “No.  He never said anything, and I don’t get to see the health forms….”

“Oh,” Tachibana says.  “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say his blood sugar is in the basement right now.”

Rin mumbles something that sounds like ‘don’t talk about me’, but everyone ignores him in favor of watching Nitori make his grand return.  He skids to a stop half a second before bowling over Ryugazaki, thrusts Rin’s jacket at Hazuki, who tosses it to Nanase, who immediately empties the pockets onto the floor.  Rin is apparently a closet packrat, because the amount of stuff he carries around is staggering – mobile phone, a stubby pencil, a few bits of paper, a stopwatch, his room key, some wrapped candies, a plastic tube, several coins, and so on and so forth.  Nanase snatches up the tube, which reads **Glucose Tablets** on the side, and promptly slaps Rin again, though this time it’s almost gentle enough to qualify as a pat.  “Are you conscious enough to swallow these?” he demands.

“Mmrgh.  Stop _hitting_ me,” Rin slurs.  Nanase shoves the tube into his hand.  Rin pops the top, peers inside, and downs the last few tablets.  He keeps blinking fuzzily, like he can’t quite bring anything into focus.  When he rubs the back of his wrist across his eyes, Nanase shifts, and Seijuurou thinks he’s going to smack him yet again (Nanase gets to have all the fun, it seems) – but his hand stops an inch away from Rin’s face, hovers for a moment, lowers to rest on the ground next to his head.

And then Nanase and Rin just… look at each other.  Deeply.  Intently.  Soul-searchingly.  Like they’ve both completely forgotten that they aren’t the only ones in the room.  Tachibana’s expression is equal parts uncomfortable and understanding.  This is easily the most intimate thing Seijuurou’s witnessed since the time he walked in on his roommate jerking off.  Add a thousand points to the _bad breakup_ column, game, set, match.

The moment ends at the slam of the natatorium doors, heralding the arrival of Nurse Tanaka.  She’s a tiny, petite woman who doesn’t look a day over twenty, but when she bellows, “You _again_ , Matsuoka?!”, Rin actually flinches.  Everybody scrambles out of the way as she stalks over.  Nanase simply gets to his feet and walks towards the locker room without a backwards glance.

Since the nurse seems to have everything under control, especially the part where Rin gets chewed out, Seijuurou leaps to his feet and races after the slowly retreating Iwatobi team.  “Hey,” he says, once he’s caught up to Nanase.  “Thanks.”

Nanase stares at him for a second, then nods and disappears into the locker room.  As always, Tachibana’s the one with the actual words.  “Don’t worry,” he says, “he should be fine in ten or fifteen minutes.  Thank you for letting us use the pool.”

“No problem,” Seijuurou replies.  “Tell Gou I hope she feels better!” he adds before Tachibana leaves the natatorium.  In all the hubbub, he’d completely forgotten about her, and now he finds himself questioning if it would be a _major_ abuse of his position to coax Rin into revealing Gou’s address while he’s still groggy.  No, he decides, but it’d be morally wrong.  Having principles sucks sometimes.  “Do you think Gou would like flowers?” he asks Nitori, the only other member of the Samezuka team left (although he’d bet anything that the rest of them are huddled in the locker room, waiting for news). 

“Iwatobi’s manager?  The girl who’s always ogling everyone?”

“Yeah,” Seijuurou says.  He doesn’t mind the ogling.  They’re a fit group.  He just hopes she ogles him more than anyone else.

Nitori contemplates this, then says, “I think she’d rather have a photo of your abs.”

He has a valid point.  Seijuurou doesn’t get more than an instant to start figuring out how he’d get it to her, however, because something that feels an awful lot like an empty plastic tube bounces off the back of his skull.  “Don’t even _think_ about it, Seijuurou.”

Seijuurou turns around.  Rin’s still pale, but he’s sitting up now and looks considerably more alert.  Nurse Tanaka is scribbling something on her clipboard, possibly filling out an incident report.  Or maybe she’s claiming hazard pay.  Seijuurou wouldn’t blame her for trying. “Oh, good,” he says.  “If you’re awake enough to threaten me, you’re awake enough for a harsh lecture on respecting your team captain.”  Rin has the decency to look faintly abashed, which lends credibility to the theory that he wasn’t entirely in control of his earlier behavior.  Seijuurou’s had a rocky day, though.  “Followed by a lecture about _not_ overworking yourself into a diabetic coma –”

“If your crappy training regimen didn’t cater to the lowest common denominator, I wouldn’t _have_ to –”

“Speaking of, don’t you have a medical alert bracelet or something –”

“Why the _fuck_ would I wear it while I’m swimming?!”

“ – and you know, I really wish you’d do us all a favor and just screw Nanase already – or let him screw you, but you’ve got such a giant stick up your ass that I don’t think anything else would fit up there – and then you’d probably be less of a dick!”

“ _What?_ ” Rin screeches, but Seijuurou is _so_ done with him right now.  He storms off towards the locker room, swearing profusely under his breath, wondering what the hell possessed him to accept the captaincy of the swim team.

The last thing he hears before the door slams shut is Nitori sighing, “Maybe I should’ve joined the badminton team instead.”

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory disclaimer: slapping someone who passes out from hypoglycemia is probably not the best course of action. call an ambulance instead. don't take medical advice from a guy who tries to climb into fish tanks.


End file.
